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Jacqui Rogers: Simply Spiritual

*** Click on the ISBN number to order this book. ***

 

My eyes flickered open but it wasn’t morning. Why was I awake? I heard a noise and saw a shadow in my room. “Oh, no! No, it’s not happening again. Please, no.” I prayed that I was still asleep and that I could close my eyes and when I woke up it would be morning. I told myself that I was imagining it, it was just a dream, the vivid imagination of an eight year old – that’s what my mother said whenever I tried to tell her about it. 

There it was again. A bolt of fear stabbed through me. My heart rate sped up. My hearing sharpened, the fuzzy security of sleep had vanished. It was 2.40 a.m. and my bed was shaking. My eyes shot open and I didn’t move an inch, not daring to breathe. My heartbeat was drumming in my ears and I felt pure terror. Someone was walking around my bedroom. It was a man. I didn’t know him. Then I heard the noise again, the most awful noise. Someone was climbing the stairs, slowly, rhythmically, with deep rasping breathing sounds in time with each heavy step taken.

Oh, no! It’s going to get me! I put my fingers in my ears but I could still hear it. I started whimpering. I sat up on the side of my bed, hugging myself as I shook with absolute terror and the certainty that it would get me this time. Grandmother, with whom I shared my room, stirred and blinked open her eyes as if she had been woken by something – could she have heard it too? My frightened, glaring eyes stared at her and her face said it all. I could see initial shock, disbelief, then a knowing look on her face - did she understand what it was? She saw my feeble form shaking and the petrified look on my face and threw back the covers of her bed and hurried over to me; grabbing me in a protective hug she said, “Don’t worry, they won’t hurt you.”

I had so many questions that I wanted to ask. “What is it? Who won’t hurt me? Why do I keep hearing it?” But all I could do was collapse sobbing with relief into her nightdress and she rocked me and stroked my head with soothing words of comfort. At last I wasn’t alone.

When I eventually calmed down and my heaving sobs and hiccups had abated, my grandmother sat on her bed facing me. She took my hands in hers and told me not to be afraid. She said that the noises wouldn’t hurt me. I asked her to tell me what they were and how she knew they wouldn’t hurt me. She was careful not to say any words that would scare me, but I knew what she meant. She said that they wanted to be with me, to protect me. I was confused and thought ‘But who are they? And why do I need protecting? And if they are there to protect me, why do they scare me so much?’ I asked her who it was, hoping she would know. She just calmly said, “I don’t know”.

Her explanation didn’t help me at all really, because I just wished these ‘ghosts’ would go off and haunt someone else and leave me alone. I knew that there was more to it than just a noisy spirit - there was something deeper going on. I still didn’t understand why it was happening to me though, and my grandmother could not, or would not, answer that question. I didn’t mind that so much though, because I was just so relieved there was someone else who knew what I was talking about. Someone else who understood the fear and confusion I was feeling. I felt so relieved by the knowledge that it wasn’t just my imagination and someone knew that I wasn’t mad and that I wasn’t making it up. In those moments of abject fear I wanted it all to stop so badly, but little did I know that all those terrifying experiences would shape my future so significantly.


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